Chapter Text
As early as Shizuka could remember, Kaa-san would tell him stories of spirits. Stories of shikigami, yōkai and oni.
He was seated at the living room table of their small home, practicing kanji with irritatingly clumsy hands.
“Shikigami are powerful spirits summoned to ward off disaster and wicked yōkai,” she said, gently correcting his brush strokes. “They are bound to the will of the onmyōji who summon them.”
“But–if the summoner is careless, the spirit will break free of their master’s control, and bring disaster of its own.” She directed him to write the same symbols twice, mirroring each other and forming a diamond.
The kanji 縛るor Shibaru–meaning “restrain”–required seventeen brush-strokes in total, whereas the kanji 門 or Kado–meaning “gate”–only needed eight brush-strokes. Thankfully for his little toddler wrists, neither required overly intricate movements. He still fudged it, but it looked significantly better than his first pitiful attempts.
“This sealing array is designed to suppress and contain malevolent spirits. It is capable of sealing very powerful yokai, and even shikigami.” She grabs her own brush and encloses each kanji in a small diamond before connecting those diamonds with a line of ink, creating an equilateral, diamond-shaped polygon.
“This is a Four-Point Seal: the first formation in the Twelve-Pronged Containment Seal.” She lays her brush on the suzuri. “The containment seal has been passed down in our family for generations. Now, you will learn it as I did.”
Shikigami are powerful creatures, but not inherently dangerous or malevolent. Similar to humans, they are capable of becoming corrupted by their environment, or by how they are used, and the reason behind their summoning.
They are a form of spirit–similar to kami, depending on who you ask–as they wield the power to place blessings like kami, or wicked curses like yūrei. A shikigami who “slips the leash” as it were, could unleash devastating curses, poison the land and bring about great misfortune.
For this reason, onmyōji should not summon shikigami without a clear purpose, and should not be used carelessly. Of course, after the fall of the Uzumaki, onmyōji are few and far between in the Elemental Nations, and are unlikely to hold any allegiance except to themselves.
Kaa-san said if he ever came across another onmyōji to treat them with respect, but to keep a blade up his sleeve. Or a few blades, to be on the safe side.
It took him a while to realize this wasn’t his first go-around.
His little baby brain had to work overtime to make sense of the memories from his past life. It was so alien to the world he was in now that he briefly thought he was experiencing sudden onset psychosis–before he realized Shizuka shouldn’t even know what that means.
The moment it well and truly set in had sparked a tantrum so intense he wouldn’t be surprised if his parents were still having nightmares about it. Crying, screaming, throwing anything he could get his hands on. Not his finest moment.
His life returned to normal once he calmed down, which he should have expected. In hindsight, it was a little silly to assume everything would change after his big realization. As if the world and everyone in it would somehow know.
Just because his world was shattered doesn’t mean everybody else’s was too.
The only real change was Shizuka becoming an unnaturally well-behaved child–meaning his mischief had become subtle, not absent–which relieved his parents greatly. No more super-tantrums for Shizuka.
They gushed to their neighbors about him too, seemingly unaware that his detached and aloof vibe unsettled everyone else but them.
Still, it was pretty cool to have parents who acted more like they were his fans than authority figures. It was child’s play–pun intended–to weasel an allowance out of them. He used it strictly for mochi.
Kaa-san called it his discretionary fund.
His special circumstances did provide some other benefits; he was the top of his class in the Academy. Maybe it was silly of him to be proud of one-upping a group of actual children, but they can have that damn number-one spot when they pry it out of his cold dead hands.
Apparently he descended from a long line of ghost-hunters.
“Onryō–” Kaa-san warns, not looking up from the dining room table where she was creating a batch of explosive tags. “–are a more powerful form of yūrei, and far deadlier. Only highly skilled onmyōji can put them to rest.”
Before he was Shizuka, he wouldn’t be buying into any of this. But now he was re-experiencing childhood where he went to ninja school, with parents who could summon lightning and clone themselves with water.
It’s safe to say his skepticism had taken a massive blow from which his understanding of the laws of physics would not recover.
“Our clan has developed techniques to contain evil spirits and purify curse-sites. It’s a dangerous undertaking, but it is our sacred duty as Uzumaki.”
The Uzumaki being–from what he could tell–a near-extinct clan of mad ninja scientists who figured out a way to kill demons with calligraphy. It’s much cooler than it sounds. Hopefully…
“Are there a lot of evil spirits, Kaa-san?” he asks. “You make it sound like you can’t take a walk without tripping over them.”
She hums, setting her sealing equipment on the table. “Mizu no Kuni was rife with civil war before Shodai-sama brought order. This has led to an abundance of vengeful spirits and souls that haven’t been laid to rest, and created the perfect environment for yōkai to propagate.”
“Even then, most people don’t encounter them often enough to merit a major concern. But you shouldn’t rely on that, Shizu-chan. We Uzumaki attract trouble like moths to flame.”
“Then what do I do if I ever come across an evil spirit?” he asks.
“Until you can form the four-point seal in your sleep, you run.”
“So.” Tou-san’s familiar stern resting face is firmly set, an expression that Shizuka shares, much to the older man’s joy. “How’s school?”
His entire demeanor is far too serious. He’s acting like they’re in a tense meeting in the Mizukage’s office, instead of enjoying a quiet afternoon in the dining room.
“S’fine,” he says distractedly, too busy with his homework to engage in conversation. It’s not especially difficult, just tedious.
“Ah,” Tou-san says haltingly. “That’s… good.”
“Uh-huh.”
Silence falls between them as he works through the paper. It wasn’t anything complicated, just a simple history report about the founding of Kirigakure. There was a part he was going to need a little help on, though.
“Tou-san, can I ask you some questions?”
His father’s severe expression immediately falls away with a grin that emanates far too much self-satisfaction, and crosses his arms over his chest with a triumphant nod. “Ah! Need some help from your old man? I’m more than happy to, of course.”
“Yup. I need to interview elders for my class project.”
Set the bait.
“Oh? You want me to introduce you to some folks? You know, our neighbor Itami-san might–”
And reveal the trap.
Shizuka cuts him off, sensing an opportunity and promptly pouncing on it. “Nah, you don’t need to do anything like that. I’ll just interview you.”
“Didn’t you say you had to interview elders? I don–”
“Yeah! You’re pretty old, right?
Tou-san sputters. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. I’m barely thirty.”
He can be so vain sometimes. Unfortunately for him, Shizuka couldn’t resist poking the bear. Or in this case, the shinobi-shaped teddy bear.
“You’re like, really old. I’ll get a really good grade in this assignment if I interview you!”
“I… I can’t tell if you’re doing that on purpose.”
He blinks with childlike curiosity, the very picture of innocence. “Doing what?”
Tou-san sighs, reaching across the width of the table to ruffle Shizuka’s dark-red hair. “You and your mother sure love to torture me.”
“You make it too easy Ken-chan,” Kaa-san says as she slips into the dining room, pecking two small kisses on their foreheads. Her flak jacket is scuffed with dirt, and she smells like ash and iron. “It’s too hard to resist.”
“You’re both evil,” he teases. “All those sweets must have gone to your heads. Maybe we need to revisit the mochi budget?”
The temperature plummets immediately, and Shizuka suddenly becomes aware of how close he is to his explosives-loving mother.
“What the hell did you just say?” Kaa-san’s hand tightens on Tou-san’s shoulder, locking him in place where he was still leaning halfway over the table. “Maybe you need to revisit the couch?”
Shizuka shifts his pencil to rest between his fingers like a senbon, offhand running through the hand-seals for the substitution jutsu. This could get messy.
Tou-san chuckles nervously. “Let’s not get carried away, Yuzu-chan. I was only joking.”
“Don’t you ‘Yuzu-chan’ me, ya know!”
And that’s my signal. A small application of chakra completes the jutsu, replacing himself with a pillow from the living room and barely avoiding a chakra-chain. Living with two excitable trained killers can’t be good for his health.
It made for good training though.
Shizuka’s parents are both shinobi; Jonin of Kirigakure no Sato.
His father, Imaizumi Kentaro, is a swordsman. Not the special magical-sword kind, to be clear, but a practitioner of the Imaizumi Two-Sword Style.
Naturally, with two shinobi parents, Shizuka is expected to follow in their footsteps and become shinobi himself. And, as someone who descends from both the Imaizumi and the Uzumaki, he is expected to learn and master their secret techniques.
Which is why his remaining free time after school and studying with Kaa-san was spent learning kenjutsu with Tou-san. He was a fine instructor, despite what his… unique personality would lead one to believe.
“Just as you would use water to overwhelm fire, we Imaizumi use two blades to overwhelm one,” his father says, hair still a mess from the scuffle in the dining room. “Most shinobi don’t wield katana, so they probably won’t be expecting to run into a ninja who wields two of them.”
“But if your strength is split between two swords wouldn’t it be easier for your opponent to control your blades in a bind?”
“If you allow your blades to be caught in a bind you’re doing it wrong. This style focuses on speed, not overpowering your opponent.” Tou-san shakes his head. “You can’t afford to waste time getting caught in a bind in most fights, anyway. You could get away with that sort of thing if you were fighting a samurai, but not in a shinobi battle.”
“So what do I do if I get in one? A samurai battle?”
The older man shrugs. “Kick ‘em, spit in their eyes. Anything to gain distance and avoid a katana to the chest. Samurai are obsessed with ‘honor’ and ‘fighting fair’ like a bunch of morons. Hell, just send an explosive tag their way if you’re pressed for time.”
“Have you ever fought samurai before?”
“Just the once,” he says with a sly grin, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth like he was a kid sharing a secret on the playground. “The last Water Daimyo’s honor guard. Too bad they were defending a traitor.”
Tou-san is kinda scary, ya know!
“Regardless, a shinobi must be able to adapt to his opponents, no matter the circumstances. Imaizumi kenjutsu is a quick and adaptable style, most of your opponents won’t have a good counter for it unless they commit to a ranged battle.”
“So…ninjutsu. Which most ninja can do…” Shizuka drawls. “Wow, how useful.”
He sputters, arms swinging wildly. “Hey, don’t say it like that! There are techniques to get around that sort of thing! I was just about to get into that!”
“Okay, geez. I believe you.” Shizuka puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Please show me how to counter a fireball with fancy kenjutsu.”
“Oh come on, Shizuka. You’re supposed to be all excited about your old man showing you cool sword techniques.” Tou-san slumps with a dejected sigh, arms dangling limply in the air. “Do you hate me? Is that it? What kind of man is hated by his own son?”
Geez. Tou-san is such a drama queen…